


Art Imitates Life

by Glitteringworlds



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 16:27:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14622573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitteringworlds/pseuds/Glitteringworlds
Summary: When all else fails, you can always not-so-subtly project your gay feelings onto you OCs.





	Art Imitates Life

The first time, it was vague enough that Yasha didn’t even notice.

Jester had been spending more time drawing openly, during the day, instead by herself at night, and she’d been sharing more with the others, too. At least, Yasha has assumed it was with the others. At first it was silly things, jokes, funny pictures of the group or the things they fought.

But there were other, more serious, nicely made sketches too - a field of flowers, a blue feathered song bird, a short-haired woman in a large gown, gazing longingly at a armored figure somewhere in the distance.

They were all very nice, as far as Yasha could tell, but she didn’t exactly think that she  _could_  tell, and she didn’t want to seem insincere. So if she didn’t pay close attention, it wasn’t because she didn’t care, it was because she didn’t really know how she was supposed to care about that kind of thing, other than thinking it was pretty.

But the woman in the gown kept showing up again and again, and there was something about it that started to feel odd about it, the more times Yasha saw her. Something about the shape of her face, or the way her hair curled into a charming bob just below her chin, or -

It was the freckles that did it. And then of course she couldn’t help but notice that there was a particular… tallness, to the armored figure, a particular shape, that was unmistakable once Yasha had started to put together the pieces.

Yasha tried to stammer out a response, failing even to remember the vague, somewhat useless praise she usually gave.

“So what do you think? She’s very pretty, right?”

As if to drive the point home, Jester held the sketch book up a little higher, right below her own face, resting her chin on top of it.

“Yeah, she’s, uh… she’s really.” Yasha coughed. “That’s a very fancy dress.”

The armored figure, in this picture, had one of the lady’s - one of  _Jester’s_  hands, clasped before her as she knelt. It looked like she was about to kiss it.

“Well she is a princess you know, they dress very fancy.” Jester tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Maybe I should give her a pretty crown or something. Do you think her knight would like that?”

“Is… that her knight, then?”

“Of course! Every good princess needs a knight devoted to her. They follow her around, and fight for her glory, and tell her she’s beautiful… and of course the princess tells the knight they are beautiful too, in any  _good_  story.”

Yasha had given up on trying to make eye contact. “But I mean, how would she even know? The knight seems to… have a lot of. Uh. You know.”

“Armor?” Jester piped up helpfully.

“Yeah.”

“Well… maybe she does hide a lot of herself away, but I think the princess still knows that the knight is beautiful. She’s a  _very_  smart princess. She can tell.”

Yasha stole a glance up and the drawing again. The knight was definitely supposed to be her. “You’ve, uh. Thought a lot about those two.”

“Ohhh, I don’t know. I’ve just been feeling very inspired lately.” Leaning forward a bit, Jester nudged Yasha’s foot with her own. As Yasha glanced back up sheepishly, Jester closed the sketchbook with a satisfied snap. “But maybe I need to think about them a little more. I don’t know they are quite ready for me to share with anyone yet.”

A little unsure why she had been holding it, Yasha let out a quiet breath. “Well. If you are so serious about thinking about them it I’m sure you can, you know… think. Of something.” She had kind of lost track of the metaphor. Hadn’t Jester been just trying to poke fun at her?

“Oh maybe,” Jester replied. “Maybe you can tell me if you ever want to see more of them.”

“O-okay.”

With a small, sincere little curtsy, Jester got up from the table and scampered upstairs to her room before Yasha could say more.

It was only a few minutes later, when Beau and Molly walked in arguing at full volume, that Yasha realized she had still been gazing at the top of the stairs, thinking sort of absentmindedly about what it might be like to kiss someone’s hand. 

Not for the first time in her life, Yasha found herself exceedingly glad that Molly couldn’t read people’s minds.


End file.
